


This is Sasha

by Aria_i_Adagio



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_i_Adagio/pseuds/Aria_i_Adagio
Summary: I wrote something . . . fluffy?  Yeah...gave the Ot3 a kid.  Why not?Chapter One: In which Sasha is five.Chapter Two: In which Sasha is still five and finds her familiar.





	1. In Which Sasha is Five

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this was the only thing I could do writing wise that shocked me at this point. I blame having to read child development psych for class....

This is Sasha

 

Sasha is five.  She has a sock Faust who isn't as good as real Faust, but Asra took real Faust with him on his trip.  Sometimes Asra leaves real Faust when he's worried Mommy or Daddy might do something silly while he's gone.  But Sasha isn't supposed to know that. She's supposed to think that real Faust is watching out for her.

Sasha is smart.  She knows enough to not say everything she knows.

She dressed herself this morning.  Her favorite leggings that look like the sun before it sets and her purply-est, purple dress.  Mama and Daddy weren't up yet, so she fed the dogs their breakfast - a bowl of pomegranates she had to levitate down from a top shelf.  Malak squacked at her when she climbed up the shelves to find the pumpkin bread, but she gave him a piece and he was quiet.

She eats bread and colors a picture, and then she's bored.  She's climbs into bed with Mama and Daddy and starts to braid Daddy's hair.  It's red and curly like hers. Daddy turns his head and half wakes up.

“ _Shto, kotyonka?_ ”

“It's morning.   _Utra_.”

Daddy mumbles something and sits up, running at his face and peering out the window.  “So it is.” He ruffles Sasha's hair and grins conspiratorially. (Which is a bigger word than Sasha can spell, but not so big that she doesn't know it.  Mama and Asra are often conspiratorial. And Mama and Daddy are conspiratorial. And sometimes, Daddy and Asra are conspiratorial, and that is always fun.)  “How should we wake up your mother? Tickles or kisses?”

“Tickles are mean, Daddy!”  Sasha forgets to keep her voice down and claps her hands over her mouth when Mama stirs.  But she doesn't open her eyes, so Sasha wasn't too loud.

“Okay, kisses it is then.”

Sasha laughs and kisses Mama's cheek.  Mama opens one eye, then rolls over and wraps her arms around Sasha, pulling her into a warm cuddle.  Mama is very good at cuddling. “Up already, little one?”

“The sun's been up for hours, Mama!”

“Hours, oh my!”

“Is Asra coming home today?”

“No, sweetie.  Not today, not tomorrow, but the next day.”

Sasha sits up and counts on her fingers.  One for not today, one for not tomorrow, and one for the next day.  Three days. “That's too long!”

“I absolutely agree with you, darling.”  Daddy kisses the top of her head.

“Who's going to fix my hair?”

“Sweetie, let me get some coffee made before we worry about fixing anyone's hair.”  Mama scrubs the back of her hand over her eyes. “Go on down to the kitchen. We'll be right there.”

Sasha scrambles down from bed and reaches back for sock Faust.  She pads to the door and back down the stairs.

The dogs have pushed the fruit bowl into the corner and the scattered remnants of pomegranates litter the floor.  Sasha starts to scold them; the doggies should know better. They're older than she is. But she's suddenly scooped off her feet and held tight in Daddy's arms as he mutters curses under his breath.

“It's okay, Ilya.”  Mama sighs loudly as she picks her way around the smears of bright red juice.  “Just pomegranates.”

Sasha puts a hand of each of Daddy's cheeks.  Daddy worries too much. Especially when Asra is gone.  “I gave the doggies breakfast.”

“I can see that.”

Mama crouches down to pick up the bowl from the corner and does something with her hands as she stands up.  The juice lifts off the floor, gathers into a trembling sphere, and drops into the sink. “No real harm done, but Sasheenka, that's not the best breakfast for Mercedes and Melchior.”  Both doggies slink into the kitchen with their tails between their legs.

“But they like pomegranates!”

Mama kisses her shoulder.  She can't reach Sasha's cheek when Daddy is holding her.  “You wanted to give them a treat. That was nice. But ask first next time.  And give them treats outside.”

Mama starts to heat water for coffee. Sasha tugs  Daddy's hair and sits her down at the table in a slightly higher chair that's just for her.  He looks at the bread unwrapped on the table and tuts. “And you got yourself bread too.”

“I got my own breakfast.  I'm big now.”

“I see that.”  He sits down across from her at the table.

“And I gave Malak a piece.”

“Mmm . . . I thought he was starting to look a little fat.”

Mama sets a glass of milk down in front of Sasha and then streaming mugs of coffee on the table for get and Daddy.  Coffee is gross. Asra doesn't drink it anyway Sasha is pretty sure he's the smartest of her parents. Even if he's gone too much.  She drinks her milk while Mama and Daddy drink their coffee. They're always happier after coffee.

Mama gets a second mug of coffee and sits back down.  She slices off the crumbled end of pumpkin bread that Sasha was eating from and begins to nibble on it.  “So, little one, what are we going to do after Daddy goes to work.”

Sasha claps her hands.  “Feed chickens and gather eggs.”

Daddy smiles.  “I'm surprised you haven't already fed the chickens.”

“Asra told me I shouldn't go outside if you and Mama are still sleeping.  Not unless I have real Faust.”

“Good advice.  What are you going to do next?”

“Take eggs to Mazelinka and Grannie and Grandpa.”

“Do you want to do anything special after that?”

Sasha touches one finger to her chin and thinks.  Going to the docks and looking at the ships was fun, even if Mama never took her to explore the streets around the harbor like Daddy would.  But that didn't seem right today. “Can we take the doggies to visit Aunt Nadia and Aunt Pasha?” the doggies always liked to visit the palace, and Aunt Pasha always had pretty flowers, and Aunt Nadia always had the best snacks.

Mama smiled.  “We can do that, sweet pea.  But we're not going anywhere until that hair is under control.”

Sasha shakes her head.  “Mama, you never do my hair right!”

Mama looks at Daddy, and Sasha can tell that she's exasperated.  (Exasperated is another word Sasha knows, even if she can't spell it.)  Sasha climbs down from her chair and gets her egg basket from a low shelf.  “I'm going to go look for eggs now.” She trots off through the door to the backyard.  Both Mama and Daddy are awake now, so it was okay to go outside.


	2. Wherein Sasha Finds Her Familiar

Sasha is still five.

Sasha is very happy because Asra is back with real Faust.  She likes sock Faust, but real Faust is better. And her hair was fixed right this morning because Asra is the parent who fixes her hair right, and Asra is back.  So her hair is finally  _ right _ not just the close to right that Granny can do.

And now Asra is taking her to visit Uncle Muriel who is okay with Mama but who does not like Daddy at all, so he doesn't visit Sasha.  Sasha has to visit him. Uncle Muriel also doesn’t need eggs like the other people Sasha visits. He has more chickens than Mama does. But Uncle Muriel doesn’t live near the baker, so Asra stops to buy a loaf of pumpkin bread for him.  The baker winks at her and tosses in a gingerbread muffin.  

Real Faust is also heavier than sock Faust.  Sasha carries her for a block, but when they get to the square, Asra crouches down and holds out his arms to scoop them both up, carrying them through the crowd of people.

When they get to the forest, Uncle Muri shows her a patch of wildflowers that just bloomed and lifts her up into a tree to see a nest of pretty blue eggs he found.  The cocoon in the milkweed that they looked at the last time Sasha visited is empty now. The caterpillar grew wings and flew away. Uncle Muriel only smiles at her when she asks if she’s grow wings one day and fly away.

After eating a lunch of mushroom soup that Asra fixed while Uncle Muri was showing her new things, Sasha chases Inanna around the hut. Asra and Uncle Muri sit on the ground and talk quietly with each other, until the sun is halfway down in the sky and it’s time to go home.

They’re nearly at the edge of the forest, when Sasha hears a rustling in the overgrowth by the path.  She pulls on Asra’s hand to get him to stop, then lets go of his fingers to push aside the shrubbery. Big green eyes peer out at her from underneath a pile of leaves.  She holds out her hand, and slowly a kitten crawls out into the open and toward her. Sasha kneels beside the kitten and pats her head. She - Sasha knows the kitten is a she - is almost as big as a full grown house cat.  She's spotted, with huge paws, and little points of fur on the tips of her ears.

The kitten butts her head against Sasha's and blinks sorely at her.  _ "Hungry."   _

"She's hungry."

Asra stands nearby, but not too near.  Sasha knows he’s trying not to spook the kitten.  "She needs her mama then."

The kitten pushes against Sasha.   _ "Gone!” _

Sasha hugs the kitten to her.  "Her mama is gone."

Asra doesn't look worried.  Daddy would be worried, so Sasha is glad that Asra is with her.  But he sets Faust down on the ground. She slithers in a perimeter around Sasha and the kitten testing the air with her tongue.

"How do you know her mama is gone?"

"She told me."

Asra kneels down, eyebrows raised and holds out his hand to the kitten who sniffs it then butts her head against his fingers.  "She told you?"

Sasha nods empathetically and turns back to the kitten, rubbing at her ears.  "What's your name, baby?" The kitten only looks at Sasha, tilts her head to the side and then chirps in perfect kitten.  “No name? I'm going to call you Madrigal.” A madrigal is a kind of song. Daddy was playing one on the vielle the other night.  It was pretty, and the kitten was pretty. Sasha looks over at Asra. “Her name is Madrigal.”

Faust slides back to Asra and coils around his shoulders.  She flicks her ear against Asra's and he smiles. “Okay then, I guess you’re going to be her mama now.  We better go home, precious, so we can get both of you some dinner.”  

Sasha hugs the kitten again and scrambles to her feet.  “Okay, Madrigal, you come with us now.” The kitten bounces behind them, unsteady on her feet until they get back to the city gates.  Asra picks up the kitten and tells Sasha to hold on to his scarf until they get home.

* * *

Dema ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair one more time and set aside the book that she had been reading her a story from.  Sasha is curled asleep with her arms around the purring kitten. Mercedes is pressed up against the little girl’s back and Melchior lounges at the foot of the bed.  

Dema gets out of bed carefully.  She didn’t want to wake Sasha. It would be difficult enough to get her back to sleep, and Mercedes the self appointed nanny dog would be extremely displeased.  She touches the lamp beside the bed, lowering its magic light to a soft glow. Asra is leaning on the door, arms crossed over his chest, a soft smile playing at his lips.  He unfolds his arms when Dema comes to him, pulling her into an embrace and kissing the top of her head.  

“Of course, Sasha would have a familiar that’s going to be nearly as big as she is,”  Dema whispers with her face pressing into his chest.

Asra chuckles.  The kitten had lapped up a large dish of goat milk under Sasha’s watchful eyes and then had almost immediately fallen asleep.  “That might not be a bad thing.” He pulls Dema out into the hall and pulls the door of Sasha’s bedroom shut but for the last few inches.  He leans over and kisses Dema, violet eyes sparkling. “Don’t you think a wildcat is a good fit for her?”  

“Mmm . . . yes.”  She tugs at Asra’s hand, pulling him back downstairs.  “Let’s wait up for Ilya. I really don’t want to him to find a wildcat in bed with her with no warning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just name a kitten Madrigal? Maybe. 
> 
> But that Madrigal isn't a lynx. This Madrigal is.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I blame the developmental psych class and running a fever while I wrote this. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
